


Leadership Looks Good On You, I Think

by TrueSoprano



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: F/M, Fluff, yeah this is one of those fics where i insert actual dialogue from the game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-08
Updated: 2016-11-08
Packaged: 2018-08-29 19:08:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8501953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrueSoprano/pseuds/TrueSoprano
Summary: Loghain arrives in Amaranthine to tell Warden Commander Tarja Amell that he's being sent to Orlais. Tarja won't let him go.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is basically my own headcanon about what happens when Loghain arrives in Amaranthine. Tried kind of a different style of writing and I think it turned out OK.

Tarja couldn’t contain her excitement when she saw him. Smiling, she ran up to him, and it took everything she had not to launch herself at him. After all, it had been almost three weeks since she had been called to Amaranthine, while he stayed behind in Denerim to help his daughter settle in to her new marriage.

“Ah. There you are.”

The usually stoic Loghain surprised her by taking her into his arms. He wasn’t known for being very affectionate in public, but she could feel him smiling against her cheek.

“I see you are back amongst the Grey Wardens,” he said after a long hug, placing an armored hand on her cheek and smiling slyly. “Leadership looks good on you, I think.”

She couldn’t help but blush and giggle at the comment. “Is that your way of flirting with me?”

“Am I so bad that you need to ask?” He gave her a quick, chaste kiss on the lips before backing up, casually leaning against a pillar. “I came to pay my respects to the new Commander of the Grey, before I leave Ferelden. I trust everything is going well.”

“Well enough- WHAT?”

Leaving Ferelden? Was this some kind of joke?

“I have been commanded to join the Wardens in Montsimmard. Apparently I’m not trusted to remain in Ferelden. I’ll interfere, I’m told. Perhaps they’re right. Still, to send me to Orlais… I thought Darkspawn blood would be the last poison I’d have to swallow.”

She felt her fists clench.

“I could try to intervene on your behalf,” she said quickly.

“Unnecessary. My orders come directly from Weisshaupt itself.”

“That’s not fair!” she blurted out. “You’re a Grey Warden, not a politician!”

“Yes, but to some of these people, I’ll always be the teyrn that plunged Ferelden into a civil war. No doubt one of the nobles bribed the Wardens in Weisshaupt to send me to Orlais.”

“Well I’m the Warden Commander in Ferelden, and I’m going to convince them otherwise!”

“I know how persuasive you can be, but I don’t think you can just-“

“We’re recovering from a blight!” she said louder and angrier than she intended to. “A short one, but a blight nonetheless! And now we have a new Darkspawn problem, and the Orlesian Wardens they sent to help have all been slaughtered!”

She was shaking. She realized that this wasn’t just about having her lover fighting beside her.

“Without you, there are only four Wardens in all of Ferelden! Four! Well, five if you count Justice, but that’s a long story. Anyway, Orlais has enough Wardens, and Ferelden needs all the Wardens we can get! They have no right to send one of us away!”

She looked around and noticed all the eyes on them. Nathaniel seemed to be especially curious; it then occurred to her that as a noble, it wasn’t unreasonable that he had once known Loghain.

“Tarja,” he sighed. “Let’s discuss this later. I’ve been travelling all day, and I’m very tired.”

“But you agree with me, right? Please, don’t give up.”

He nodded, placing his eyes on her. His eyes were calming, comforting, like coming home. It had been far too long.

“Loghain,” she smiled seductively. “Have you had your quarters arranged for you yet?”

“Well, I was actually hoping I could share yours.”

“That’s the only answer I’ll accept,” she continued smiling as she kissed him again.

***

“Thirty years using this as my primary armor set, and I believe that’s the fastest I’ve taken it off!”

Loghain now stood before her in the light tunic and breeches he wore under his armor, dirty and soaked with sweat, but she didn’t have the patience for him to wash up. 

“Do you want a trophy-“ she began, but was interrupted by his lips. Maker, how she missed those lips on hers.

Hands were everywhere, on their chests, on their backs, under their clothes, clothes that now littered the floor. How had she gone almost three weeks without this? Without him?

Fingers dug into her back, into her hair, lips all over her face, her neck, her breasts. And she was thrown on the bed, barely even noticing it happen. All she noticed was him.

He was beautiful. Tall and pale and muscular, adorned with scars and dark body hair, sharp features flickering in the candlelight. And he thought the same of her. She was soft and smooth and voluptuous and curvy, easy to grab, but just as pale and with her own scars.

Calloused fingers grabbed her hips, traced her thighs, mouth following, trailing upwards, and she screamed when he was on her. Hungrily kissing, licking, _devouring_.

She bucked her hips against him, and he continued to taste her, like she was water and he had been lost in the desert. He looked up at her, hungrily. And she found release.

_Loghain_. Once a name that invoked fear, anger, power. Now being screamed. Sounding so good in her voice.

And his lips were on hers, and they embraced tightly, and he was inside her. They rolled over and she was in control, rotating her hips the way she knew he liked.

Reaching under, hugging. Pulling her close. They were melting. Melting into each other. It felt like home. His loud breaths and gasps and grunts were home. Amaranthine felt like home, with him here. Anything was possible. The Darkspawn would fall before her, with him beside her, catching her as she fell.

His face clenched, and then relaxed, and she felt his hot release. She shifted away from him, falling beside him, as they found each other’s eyes, colors of ice and warm whiskey meeting and filling the room with comforting silence.

His face, right now, post-climax, gentle, relaxed, in love. A face only for her. She smiled at the thought and kissed him.

“Tarja.”

His voice was soft, husky, boneless. Her name sounded perfect in it.

“Yes?”

“You may have just convinced me to stay.”

***

Sunlight streamed through the window as she awoke in his arms, tangled in him. He was still sleeping, his face still in relaxed bliss. She gently put a palm to his cheek and smiled.

He awoke with a soft groan, stretching his arms before embracing her again, pulling her close.

“Morning, love.”

She blushed. It had been around nine months and the thought that they were lovers still made her heart jump.

“Did you sleep well?” her voice was muffled by his chest, noting that she hadn’t slept like that since before she left Denerim. Wardens always slept better in the presence of other Wardens, but having Anders and the others in nearby rooms just wasn’t the same.

“I’d forgotten it was possible to sleep this well,” he said with a smile. “I don’t see how I could leave you again so soon.”

“And you won’t, remember?”

She had a feeling that he had never intended to leave her to go to Orlais alone. But he was too proud to outright ask for her help. She made a mental note to annoy him about this later.

“Warden Loghain Mac Tir,” she said formally but warmly, “I hereby instate you under my command, as second in command of the Grey Wardens of Ferelden.”

“It is my honor to serve you, commander,” he said before kissing her forehead and whispering, “leadership really does look good on you.”

Everything was finally right in the world.


End file.
